


The Returned

by Captain_Kieren



Series: Ripples [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, No Slash, i guess, i'm not going to tag too much more bc spoilers, so enjoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Kieren/pseuds/Captain_Kieren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a person from his past inexplicably returns to Merlin's life, Arthur is convinced his friend's bad luck is turning around.  But Merlin isn't so sure...</p><p>Chapter three coming soon.</p><p>*Sequel to Turnabout Destinies*</p><p>--HIATUS--</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before we start, I've gotten a couple of messages asking me to clarify the reason Merlin was injured in the last story. I hinted that there was a reason but never really gave the answer up front. The reason for that is because the characters, themselves, don't know why. But since apparently you guys want to know, I'll go ahead and give you the behind-the-scenes reason (even though it isn't really important to the story lol... All you really needed to know, I explained in Turnabout Destinies, but here you go:)
> 
> The reason was because the creature needed to be able to tell the prophecy to both Merlin AND Arthur simultaneously for them to understand. Being a creature of magic, it couldn't communicate with Arthur so it had to subdue Merlin to weaken his magic, making him susceptible to Arthur "listening" to the prophecy through Merlin's mind (which is why he saw images of Freya).
> 
> I know it probably still doesn't make an enormous amount of sense but I'm (ironically) terrible at explaining things XD Sorry...

_Their words mostly noises_

  
_Ghosts with just voices_

  
_Your words in my memory_

  
_Are like music to me_

  
_I'm miles from where you are,_

  
_I lay down on the cold ground_

  
_I, I pray that something picks me up_

  
_And sets me down in your warm arms_

  
_~~"Set Fire To The Third Bar", by Snow Patrol_

* * *

 

"I want all of you back in one piece, is that clear?" Arthur barks, sounding as commanding as ever as he considers the men standing before him. The king is pacing thoughtfully and there's a distinct pinch between his eyes that could easily be mistaken for irritation... But there's also that familiar softness under his harsh tone that gives away the concern he holds for the knights standing dutifully in front of him. And Merlin, who is beside his friend like always, knows his worry isn't in vain... "You're going to be riding against some of the most threatening mercenaries we've ever encountered. All of them are trained murders, armed, and extremely dangerous." Arthur continues, folding his arms over his chest. "But I know that each and every one of you are just as skilled. Some of you I've fought beside since I was a boy, others I trained myself. And I have every faith in your abilities, but remember that one man's strength is no match for an army. You're all brothers in arms, so keep each other safe. Understood?"

  
"Yes Sire." Comes the collection of voices in response.

  
"Good." Arthur replies, nodding his head. "You'll be reporting to Sir Leon. I want word sent back as soon as you reach camp."

  
"Yes Sire." As soon as the king motions that they're dismissed, the knights mount their horses and ride off toward the forest, leaving Arthur and Merlin standing alone in the courtyard, the former of which finally letting out his anxious sigh.

  
"I should be going with them..." Arthur mutters as he turns back toward the castle, Merlin close on his heels. Despite his friend's clear anxiety, though, there's a strange smile on the warlock's face.

  
"Arthur, I know you want to be there for your men, but you're king now. You can't fight every battle yourself. You have to trust your knights." The sorcerer reminds him, his smile turning apologetic when Arthur sputters out some assurance that he does trust them, he just likes to be there. To be sure they're alright. "And besides," Merlin continues, a hint of laughter tinting his voice. "You should be _here_ for Gwen. She needs you right now."

  
At that, Arthur's worried expression melts away and he's left with a soft smile of his own. "I suppose you're right about that, at least." He admits, glancing up at the window to his and his wife's chambers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the queen. But no such luck. She must still be with Gaius...

  
For a moment, thoughtful silence passes between them. After all, they've only just received the news the prior evening. It's a lot to take in. But, as usual, it's Merlin who breaks the silence.

  
"Have you and Gwen given any thought as to what you're going to name it?" He asks, gently elbowing the king to pull his wandering mind back to reality.

  
"Not yet." Arthur tells him, smirking once again. "We've only just found out, after all. We're still just trying to get our heads around it." He hesitates for a moment, fighting against all the nervous twists in his stomach and the way his pulse quickens when he thinks about it. "Neither of us have any idea what we're doing...it's uncharted territory."

  
"Not entirely." Merlin points out. "I mean, it's not like you're completely alone in this. You've got Gaius, he's cared for all the children of Camelot, including yourself. And there are Gwen's maids, as well. Certainly at least one of them must know something about raising a child."

  
"You're right." Arthur sighs, running his fingers through his hair before huffing out a deep sigh. "I just...want to do it right. I loved my father and respected him but...he didn't always make it easy on me. Being his son, I mean. There were times when I resented him and his decisions and I never want my child to feel like they're not cared for, the way _I_ used to..."

  
"Arthur--" Merlin begins to protest, rolling his eyes because he knows Arthur is nothing at all like his father in those aspects. Sure, he might be a bit crass sometimes but not with his family. Guinevere is treated like gold and he's certain Arthur's future child will be looked upon as if they were made of diamond. But Arthur interrupts him before he can voice any of that.

  
"I mean it, Merlin. I don't want to make the same mistakes my father did. I want this child to know they're loved and I never want them to think--even for a moment--that anything else is more important than they are." Merlin doesn't see it, but Arthur can't help but flinch a bit as he says those words. Solely because of this newfound 'connection' he shares with his friend. This new destiny of his...it still hangs over him like a looming cloud, constantly pulling his thoughts in Merlin's direction. Merlin has assured him it used to be that way for him too, back when he first discovered his destiny, and that the constant worrying will fade with time... But that hardly makes him feel batter.

  
He doesn't mind worrying for his friend's well being...what he does mind is the fact that he still can't shake that near gut instant that nothing else comes before him now... Arthur isn't sure what he would do if forced to choose between Merlin and his people but he doesn't ever think he'll need to make that choice.

  
What does frighten him, however, is the very real possibility of needing to choose between a member of his own growing family...and his destiny. Gods, he can't even bring himself to imagine what might happen if he was made to choose between Gwen--or Gods forbid his unborn child--and Merlin...

  
His heart knows he would have to choose his family, of course, but...

  
There's still that urge, that uncanny, over-protective instinct stirring in him that says he needs to keep Merlin safe. That if Merlin dies, it will simply be the end of all the things. And if what the Awirgan Wéod said all those months ago is to be believed then...that might very well be the case.

  
Still, it worries him to no end.

  
"And I'm sure they will know that." Merlin replies sincerely. "You're going to make an excellent father, Arthur, and Gwen is going to be a wonderful mother. So just relax and stop fretting."

  
Deciding to take his friend's advise to heart for now and stop his useless worrying, Arthur sighs and playfully punches Merlin's shoulder, eliciting a sharp snap of protest from him. "You know, Merlin, it's times like these when I'm reminded you're not as much of a bumbling fool as you look."

  
"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" The other man asks dryly, raising an eyebrow in Arthur's direction.

  
"Hardly." The king snorts. "You may not be as stupid as you seem, but you're still fairly dull."

  
"And _you're_ still a clotpole."

  
" _You_ need to come up with some new insults. Clotpole is getting a little old, don't you think?"

  
"Hm, I suppose you're right. How about Dollophead? I haven't used that one in a while. And it suits you perfectly... _Sire_."

  
Arthur makes a disgruntled sound as he punches Merlin's arm again, a little harder than necessary this time. "I'm going to have to keep my child as far away from you as I can...for fear they might pick up some of your atrocious manners."

  
"I don't think you'll need to worry about me spending too much time with them, what with how busy you've been keeping me..." Merlin grumbles as they approach the castle doors. "I probably won't even catch a glance until they're at least eighteen at this rate. If I'm lucky."

  
With that, Merlin starts up the stone, spiral staircase that leads to his chambers, Arthur countering with a few choice insults including "useless" and "lazy" before bidding his friend goodbye and heading to the throne room, where apparently a handful of peasants are waiting for him to hear them out.

  
_Probably more farmers needing seeds for their fields..._ Arthur decides with a sigh. _How exciting._

* * *

  
If there's one thing Merlin wasn't expecting when he was appointed court sorcerer, it was getting his own chambers. But apparently, Arthur had personally chosen a room not too far from his own to be stocked with all the necessary things a sorcerer might need. Including all the magic texts Uther had gathered and locked in the vault, some herbs and equipment not too much different from Gaius's, as well as a bed almost as cushy as the king's...almost...and a handful of servants to run errands for him whenever he needs something.

  
Of course, Merlin didn't find any of this out until months after he was anointed. Probably because of the illness he suffered for so long, even after recovering from the injury he sustained from Mordred's blade... Arthur and Gaius most likely wanted him to remain in the physician's quarters until they were sure he was okay.

  
But once it became obvious he was on the road to recovery, they sprung the surprise on him the way _only Arthur_ would. By mocking him for being a grown man living in someone else's home and insisting that he move elsewhere. Only to rather forcibly escort him to his new home...the sight of which had caused a lump to form in Merlin's throat and his eyes to burn a bit from "the dust" in the room.

  
Now, as the young warlock stands in the threshold on his new chambers, he can't help but smile fondly at Arthur's handiwork. Being king really does have it's advantages, he supposes. _And so does being the king's friend._

  
Snorting in amusement, Merlin lets the heavy wooden door fall shut behind him as he moves toward his work bench, where his spell book--one of many he now possesses, even though the one Gaius gave him is still his favorite--is laying wide open in broad daylight, the mysterious words laid bare for anyone to see...

  
He still shivers knowing that.

  
Book in hand, the sorcerer finds his way to the tall, arched window at the side of his chambers that overlooks the courtyard. Settling down onto the nest of blankets layed there, he leans against the cold stone wall and smirks out at his kingdom before thumbing through the pages of his book to the last spell he's been working on...

* * *

  
In the empty hall outside Merlin's chambers, all seems peaceful and unperturbed for a while. The warm summer breeze drifts in through an open window and spotlights of sun fall upon the stone floor. No servants pass through, not even any guards are currently stationed in the area.

  
That is, until the distinct clanging of metal armor resounds from somewhere further down the corridor. Gwaine's footsteps are quick and urgent, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword to keep it from jostling too much as he runs.

  
He doesn't know what's going on but, if the look on Arthur's face when he sent him to find Merlin means anything, it must be something serious.

  
The knight reaches Merlin's door only a few minutes after leaving the throne room and as soon as it's within knocking-distance, he's pounding on the heavy wood with his fist, shouting for Merlin to open up.

  
And the sorcerer does so only seconds later, eyes wide, bewildered. "Gwaine?" He asks. "What's the matter?"

  
"Arthur needs you in the throne room immediately. He looked serious." The knight reports, a bit breathlessly. "Said there was someone there for you."

  
"For me?" Merlin echoes, not wasting anymore time as he pulls the door closed and follows Gwaine through the hall in the direction of the throne room. "Who was it?"

  
"I don't know, Mate." Gwaine replies, their steps still feverish. "Some woman."

  
"My mother?" Merlin asks urgently, fearing that something may have happened in Ealdor or she might be in trouble again or--

  
"I don't think so, Mate, she didn't look old enough to be _anyone's_ mother."

  
_So she's young?_ Merlin is about to ask for some kind of physical description but by now, they've reached the massive doors leading into the throne room. Forgetting himself in the heat of the moment, he doesn't bother allowing the guards to announce him, with a simple push of his mind and a flash of gold in his eyes, the doors swing open and Merlin hurries in, Gwaine right on his heels.

  
Arthur is standing unceremoniously close to the young woman in front of him, his expression questioning and confused. But the king and his guest both hear Merlin enter and the former's gaze instantly snaps to Merlin's, while the latter's posture stiffens a bit but she doesn't turn around.

  
However urgent they were a moment ago, both Gwaine and Merlin pause once inside the door, hesitating at the sight in front of them. Maybe for different reasons, though...

  
It isn't easy for Gwaine to miss the tension in the air but for Merlin, it's much heavier, like thick summer heat and he feels a little choked. He knows the distant feeling of foreboding isn't his, it's Arthur's, passing to him through their strange 'connection'...but that doesn't eliminate its presence and he can't help that his stomach twists because of it.

  
"Merlin," Arthur begins slowly, his eyes flickering back to the woman next to him, who hasn't turned to face the newcomers yet, although her thin frame visibly stiffens.

  
"You called for me, Sire?" Merlin asks, trying to remain polite in front the stranger, but Arthur can tell the real question is _'Who is she? What's going on?'_.

  
Arthur gives him a wary look before addressing the woman. He opens his mouth to speak but before he gets the chance, she slowly turns. Her wide, dark eyes connecting with Merlin's immediately...and the sheer familiarity, coupled with the instantaneous heartache...is paralyzing to the young sorcerer.

  
His mouth suddenly feels dry and his heart is thumping in his ribs. This has to be a dream... There's no way this is real. And yet... He takes a clumsy, confused step forward, blue eyes shining with a plethora of mixed emotions and the name cracks from his throat before he can stop it.

  
"F-Freya...?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Enjoy!

In the silence of the throne room, it would have been entirely possible to hear a pin drop as Merlin stares with wide, confused eyes at the young woman before him. His heart thumps painfully fast in his chest and his throat feels tight, his eyes stinging with tears as feelings from all those years ago well up again, flooding him as the carefully built dam to contain them shatters like glass at the sight of her.

"F-Freya...?" He breathes, his voice nothing more than a whisper...because gods, she looks exactly as she did that day. Expression sad and apologetic and even a little afraid, skin sickly pale, and her thin frame draped in Morgana's "borrowed" gown. His hand shakes a bit as he lifts it to cover his mouth, not trusting his lower lip not to quiver at the way his heart clenches in ribs.

  
"Oh, Merlin..." She replies softly, her brow furrowing when she recognizes the sorrow on his face. At first, it appears she means to close the distance between them, her feet shuffling forward for a moment...but then she falters and hesitates. Her gaze flickers to the ragged knight standing beside him and then she timidly glances at Arthur, both men are watching her closely and she feels like shrinking into the floor, back to whatever darkness she came from...

  
"Gwaine, Arthur..."

  
Everyone's eyes switch back to Merlin now, who appears to have finally gotten a reign on his emotions. Despite eyes that still seem a bit full, his face is void of emotion, his carefully placed mask rebuilt where he likes it to be.

  
"Would you...give us a moment? Alone? I don't think either of us need an audience right now." He says without taking his eyes off Freya for a single instant.

  
"Merlin..." Arthur begins quietly, a warning in his voice. Not that Merlin needs it, he can clearly feel the suspicion and more than a little fear ebbing through their connection.

  
"It's alright, Arthur." The sorcerer assures him. Not because he trusts her, not because he believes she is who she appears to be. He's more than convinced this must be some kind of cruel trick. How else would she be back? After all this time? But he assures his friend simply because if this person truly is someone in disguise, out to harm him, it won't take so much as a shout to bring Arthur back. The king will sense if he's in danger. Of that, Merlin has no doubt. Gods know he has enough experience being the one fretting to know what it's like... "Go."

  
Arthur hesitates another moment before nodding his head and following Gwaine to the door, both of them disappearing into the corridor and leaving Merlin and Freya alone.

  
But Merlin can't bring himself to face her just yet. His throat is still tight and he has to take a few breaths before opening his mouth to speak, to ask her the hundreds of questions assaulting his mind. But before he even gets the chance--

  
"Before you ask," Freya interrupts, her familiar, sweet voice making his heart ache with how confused and scared she sounds. "I...I don't know if I am who I think I am. I know that the girl I appear to be--Freya--died a long time ago. I'm not sure how I know that, but I do, so I don't understand how I'm here. Nor do I expect you to believe me but..." She trails off for a moment, long enough for Merlin to slowly turn and face her, and nearly lose his composure again at the sight of the wetness in her eyes. "You're...all I remember, Merlin." She admits with a quaking smile. "I can't remember a thing before or after the time I spent with you. In those parts of my memory, there's just...darkness. The last thing I can recall...you were upset...and you were holding me. We were by a lake and--"

  
"Freya--" Merlin stops her, not wanting to relive that particular memory. "It's not that I don't want to believe you, because I do." He insists, moving a little closer to her, but still not closing the space between them entirely. "I wish I could believe that you're her...but you have to understand...I watched you die in my arms. If you're alive, and this is really you, it means you've been brought back through magic. For a purpose." The sorcerer slowly shakes his head and lowers his gaze to the floor. "Should you turn out to be a Shade, sent here for some reason...I can't risk the lives of the people I care about." He pauses for a moment, gauging the sadness taking hold of her expression and winces at how lost she suddenly looks.

  
"I..." She begins quietly, ducking her head toward the floor. "I understand. I think...I can't know for certain but I feel I would do the same." When he looks up again, her smile is thin and forced, her eyes shining with sorrow. "But...answer me one question? Before I...go?"

  
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Merlin nods. "Anything." He says, unable to ignore the nervous way she wrings her hands.

  
"What...did I mean to you?" She asks without looking up.

  
"What?"

  
"It's just...I can't remember specifics." She admits, as if ashamed. "Only vague images and the likes. Was I...was I someone important to you?"

  
It takes every ounce of self control Merlin has to keep his composure, but somehow, he manages. "Yes." He breathes. "You were my first love, Freya...and my last." He smirks slightly when her initial wide-eyed look softens into a sad smile and she lifts a hand to gently swipe at her watering eyes.

  
"Is there no way you can prove I'm not a Shade?" She asks softly and Merlin hesitates. There is a way, of course, the same spell he used to reveal Lancelot's true nature after he returned from the dead... But would that really prove anything? She could be something other than a Shade. With all his studying over the last year, he still knows very little of necromancy. And there's still the whole prophecy with the new priestess to deal with... How is he to be certain she isn't a witch in disguise? And yet..he gets the uncanny feeling it's still worth a shot.

  
"There is." He confirms. "If you'd be willing to try it." And Freya nods vigorously, her hands wringing tightly over her miraculously beating heart.

  
"Yes, I'll try anything." She says and Merlin nods his head.

  
"Then follow me. I can't rightly do it in the middle of the _throne room_."

* * *

  
"Well? What do you think?" Arthur whispers close to Merlin's ear. The king and the warlock are leading the small group of guards down the hall toward Merlin's chambers, Freya following far behind, surrounded by the armed officers. And Gwaine, who eyes her suspiciously.

  
"I don't know yet." Merlin replies softly, his eyes hard as they stare into the distance. "She could be a Shade."

  
"A Shade?" The king asks, tilting his head.

  
"That's a person who's been raised from the dead for a purpose. Usually not a good one, either." Merlin explains, pausing before he adds, "And it takes powerful magic to conjure a Shade." Even out of the corner of his eye, he can see Arthur stiffen in understanding.

  
"You think this could be the work of this new priestess?"

  
"I don't want to assume anything just yet...but let's not put that off the table."

  
"Right."

  
And Merlin isn't sure if it's just his imagination but...he's pretty sure Arthur's shoulder is suddenly a bit closer than it was a moment ago...

* * *

  
The guards don't allow Freya into Merlin's room while he and Arthur work on the spell. Well, while _Merlin_ works and _Arthur_ paces.

  
"So this has worked before? You're certain?" Arthur demands, stopping his incessant pacing for a few seconds.

  
"Yes, it worked on--" But the warlock pauses, swallowing the name of their mutual friend. "It worked before." He frowns at the way Arthur scowls and opens his mouth, surely about to ask what he was going to say before he stopped, but before he gets the chance, the door creaks open to reveal Gwaine peeking his head in.

  
"Are you almost through, Mate?" He asks Merlin. "The girl seems pretty anxious and she doesn't look well."

  
Despite himself, Merlin straightens from his hunched position over the partially complete rune on the floor. "What do you mean she doesn't look well?" He asks, not realizing how tense his voice sounds, nor the way Arthur raises his eyebrows at the clear concern on his face.

  
"She just looks very pale is all. And she keeps fidgeting. Is she sick?"

  
"No, not exactly." Merlin says softly, almost sadly, as he returns to the spell. "And yes, I'm almost finished." The sorcerer pretends not to notice the way Gwaine continues to linger in the doorway, now both he and Arthur staring at Merlin as if trying to decide what he's thinking. The king and knight exchange brief glances before Gwaine turns and leaves the room again, shutting the door behind him.

  
"Are you...alright, Merlin?" Arthur asks, a bit suspiciously. The emotions passing to him through their connection are vague and hard to grasp, like Merlin is purposefully hiding them from him. ...is he?

  
"I'm fine, Arthur." The warlock replies a little too quickly. "Or I will be as soon as this is over." He sits back then to admire his handiwork, placing the brush tipped in white paint aside. Glancing over at his open spellbook one last time to be sure everything is correct, Merlin rises to his feet above the spiraling rune. He extends a hand, eyes flashing gold as he utters the words. " _Onluc þa soþan treow!_ "

  
Arthur shivers as the white circle suddenly begins to sizzle with heat, the paint bubbling and turning a fiery orange for a handful seconds before fading away, leaving the rune looking no different than before. He turns to glance at Merlin, wondering if anything else was supposed to happen, but instead finds himself grimacing at the tint of...fear on his friend's face.

  
Whether Merlin was purposefully hiding his feels before or not, his emotions are coming through now. Crystal clear. And not just feelings either...

  
_"You remembered..." Freya breathed, her voice weak as she smiled out at glimmering Lake of Avalon, so much like the one near her village. Her face was pale, her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat...and yet she was still so beautiful._

  
_"Of course." Merlin replied, forcing a smile despite the tears that burned his eyes. He opened his mouth to say more but closed it again, not trusting his voice. Instead, his eyes soaked in the image of her--his love--laying in his arms. ...dying... "I'm so sorry for what that sorcerer did to you." He whispered to her._

  
_"Merlin, you have nothing to be sorry for." She insisted tiredly, her dark eyes barely managing to stay open._

  
_"There must be something I can do...! Some way to save you...!" He urged, desperation painting his voice as his expression turned almost angry. Why her? Why did it have to be Freya? But then he felt her head drooping to the ground and met her half-lidded eyes again, his expression melting with sorrow._

  
_"You've already saved me." She croaked weakly, the edges of her mouth turned up in an exhausted smile. "You made me feel loved."_

  
Arthur swallows the lump in his throat as Merlin seems to shake himself out of his reverie and moves toward the door, ready to let everyone in. But Arthur can't let that memory go unaddressed. "Merlin," He says quickly, stopping the sorcerer before he opens the door. "I erm," The king hesitates with his words, awkwardly shuffling a bit closer to his friend. "I know I haven't said anything about it yet but...I am sorry for what happened to her...and you." He has to swallow again, shifting his eyes away from Merlin's curious face. "You loved her and I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like if...if _Gwen_ would--"

  
"Arthur." Merlin interrupts, stopping the king's struggle for words. "It's alright." He assures him. "It was a long time ago." The chill in his tone has Arthur's brow furrowing in confusion as Merlin turns away to open the door. Those memories felt anything but detatched...anything but cold and like they took place "too long ago" to mean anything. No, Merlin still loves her, that much Arthur is sure of. So why...why is he acting so distant?

  
The guards usher Freya into the room, Gwaine closing the door behind them and standing in front of it so she can't escape. Not that it appears she wants to. As of now, Freya is standing on the edge of the rune, silently staring at it.

  
"It's safe." Merlin tells her. "It won't hurt you, even if you are a Shade."

  
And the Druid girl meets his gaze, causing him to immediately look away again. She frowns but nods her head. She lifts a foot as if to step into the rune but pauses and puts it down again. "Merlin," She begins. "What if...what if I _am_ a Shade? What will happen then?"

  
The guards look at each other accusingly, as if their suspicions have just been confirmed but Gwaine grumbles something inaudible to them and them return their attention to the unfolding scene.

  
Merlin, admittedly, doesn't answer at first. He looks torn. "I don't know." He says. "I don't know much of the nature of Shades, other than they are the souls of the dead raised by powerful magic to preform some sort of deed for the sorcerer who created them."

  
"A deed?" Freya asks him. "Would I know the deed if I had one?"

  
But he only shrugs. "I don't know, I'm sorry. I've only ever encountered one Shade and I didn't exactly get a chance to talk to him."

  
"I see." Freya nervously wrings her hands in front of her before releasing a shaky breath. "Well, I suppose we'll see..." Every person in the room stiffens a bit as she slowly, carefully steps into the circle, her own body bracing for something to happen. Maybe for her form to change or for fire to shoot up to the ceiling or...or something...

  
...but nothing happens.

  
She stands there with her ragged, purple gown draping off her thin frame for a long moment. But nothing happens. She doesn't show the undead, skeletal face of a Shade. She only stands there, waiting.

  
But nothing happens.

  
...nothing happens.

  
Merlin tries to take a steady breath but it shakes his lungs. He can feel Arthur watching him again and he really wishes there was some way to hide his emotions from this connection of theirs because he really doesn't feel like being insulted for being a 'girl' right now. But Arthur doesn't say anything. It's Gwaine who breaks the silence.

  
"So...was something supposed to happen or...?" And all eyes turn to Merlin, who silently curses the wetness rising in his eyes.

  
"Um, y-yes." He replies, his voice shivering a bit. "If she were a Shade...erm, the rune would have glowed like fire...she um, her face would have looked skeletal..."

  
"But none of that happened." Arthur remarks, mostly to himself.

  
"So I'm not a Shade?" Freya asks, taking a step out of the circle, one hand hovering over her pounding, nervous heart. She wants so desperately for Merlin to trust her. He's all she's got left. Does this change anything...?

  
"No, you're not." Merlin tells her and she visibly relaxes.

  
"So...what am I, then?"

  
The sorcerer purses his lips for a second before shaking his head. "I don't know." He admits. "I'll have to do some more research."

  
"And...until then?"

  
Merlin hesitates again. The safest thing would be to put her in the dungeons but...Freya? In the dungeons? He doesn't want that... But what other alternative is there? She could stay here, in one of the castle guest rooms. But if she is unwittingly working for this new priestess, that would be too dangerous. She could stay in the inn but--

  
"You'll stay here, in the servant's quarters." Arthur says, the usual command back in his voice. "Guards will be positioned in the area, as well as throughout the castle to _ensure_ nothing goes awry..." Merlin sighs in relief at Arthur's quick thinking and decides to thank him for interfering whenever they get a moment alone.

  
"Oh, thank you, My Lord!" Freya practically gushes, dropping into a low courtsy and bowing her head. With that, the guards move forward to collect her, probably to escort her to the servant's quarters. But as she's being led away, Freya stops. "And...King Arthur? ...should something happen...and I prove myself to be a danger...please don't feel any guilt or hesitation to...to _handle_ it." She says softly, causing the king's eyes to widen a bit, especially when her face suddenly goes deathly serious. "Please don't let me harm him."

  
"...understood." Arthur chokes out as the guards finally lead her away, the door to Merlin's chambers falling shut with a heavy bang behind them.


End file.
